
the thought that I AM has stretched
such a great universe around us
without thinking of Himself
or asking you why
or us how
or me where
“i could have done great things,” i said
it was as a whisper to a bang
a candle flame to our sun
the moonlight at dawn, i trace
even my own expectations from his heart
drawn apart, and labeled “a, b, c”
this trickery imposed,
that i'd convince myself
to run from home
toward want,
when
all i’ve ever wanted was Home.
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